ɪʀᴏɴᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ᴇsʜᴀɪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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tushanshu_logs2013-08-09 07:07 pm
ironwood) wrote in tushanshu_logs2013-08-09 07:07 pm
Entry tags:
- post: npc,
- thread: billy costigan,
- thread: midii une,
- thread: tim drake,
- thread: zatanna zatara,
- † amon,
- † annabeth chase,
- † arthur,
- † asbel lhant,
- † bruce banner,
- † bryn zethir,
- † bucky barnes,
- † charles xavier,
- † clara oswald,
- † clark kent,
- † damian wayne,
- † dick grayson,
- † dorian gray,
- † finnick odair,
- † frank zhang,
- † galatea,
- † hayley stark,
- † jack frost,
- † jaime reyes,
- † javert,
- † king richard,
- † korra,
- † kyle rayner,
- † leonardo (2003),
- † leonardo (2012),
- † lex luthor,
- † lord henry wotton,
- † marius pontmercy,
- † olivia dunham (alt),
- † percy jackson,
- † rachel dare,
- † raimei shimizu,
- † scott lang,
- † shayera hol,
- † the archive,
- † tobias matthews,
- † tony stark (mcu),
- † toph bei fong,
- † una persson,
- † vanessa cleveland
Event | Landfall | Dreaming
Characters: Any and every!
Date: August 10th - 31, 2013
Location: The realm of Dreaming as accessed via Sinbrilee
Situation: Dreaming is but one of the three realms and here characters are subject to their fanciful thoughts.
Warnings/Rating: Please place content warnings in subject headers!
Sinbrilee | Dreaming | Death
Life. Dreaming. Death. Three realms overlaid upon one another and yet each distinctly their own. They dwell in Life and do so live upon the back of the great turtle as those of Sinbrilee did upon the shell of his sister. However, there stand numerous arches of marble throughout the ruined city that are inlaid with runes beyond understanding. Those that live and breathe which step through those whose runes glow with faint, iridescent light tread instead into the realm of Dreaming.
Here, there exists no single defining characteristic beyond the visitor's imagination. The landscape sculpts to their individual thoughts, the events to their dreams. From a drab gray nothing to the most brilliant of displays, the senses perceive all that they wish to perceive for all that nothing here truly exists. This far from Tu Vishan, the ability to shape their surroundings is all they have, for Sinbrilee's Dreaming does not have the energy to sustain powers, only the bodies of those that dwell here.
Should two parties near, then the Mesh begins. Dreams, you see, not only can be shared, but they strive to be. These visions sculpted into reality reach out for one another and blend. They begin an exchange akin to a linking of the minds, within which one visitor can learn the other's deepest thoughts. Their limitation is but compatibility, for two minds that cannot flow upon the same current cannot hold the Mesh.
Happiness or loss, the landscape and events play out memories and fancies with a most convincing air. The mood rises and falls with the tide of the visitor's mind, detached as they are from the soothing influence of a great turtle's mind. Nothing here, however, is real; 'constructs' simply fade if taken through the archways and even the greatest scientific minds or tools will reveal nothing of its source. This is an ancient magic of an ancient realm, long practised in concealing itself from any prying.
Note: Due to the fluid and highly individual nature of Dreaming, no official subheaders will be provided in the comments of this post. Feel free to post and thread however you like, so long as the rules of Dreaming are adhered to.
Date: August 10th - 31, 2013
Location: The realm of Dreaming as accessed via Sinbrilee
Situation: Dreaming is but one of the three realms and here characters are subject to their fanciful thoughts.
Warnings/Rating: Please place content warnings in subject headers!
Life. Dreaming. Death. Three realms overlaid upon one another and yet each distinctly their own. They dwell in Life and do so live upon the back of the great turtle as those of Sinbrilee did upon the shell of his sister. However, there stand numerous arches of marble throughout the ruined city that are inlaid with runes beyond understanding. Those that live and breathe which step through those whose runes glow with faint, iridescent light tread instead into the realm of Dreaming.
Here, there exists no single defining characteristic beyond the visitor's imagination. The landscape sculpts to their individual thoughts, the events to their dreams. From a drab gray nothing to the most brilliant of displays, the senses perceive all that they wish to perceive for all that nothing here truly exists. This far from Tu Vishan, the ability to shape their surroundings is all they have, for Sinbrilee's Dreaming does not have the energy to sustain powers, only the bodies of those that dwell here.
Should two parties near, then the Mesh begins. Dreams, you see, not only can be shared, but they strive to be. These visions sculpted into reality reach out for one another and blend. They begin an exchange akin to a linking of the minds, within which one visitor can learn the other's deepest thoughts. Their limitation is but compatibility, for two minds that cannot flow upon the same current cannot hold the Mesh.
Happiness or loss, the landscape and events play out memories and fancies with a most convincing air. The mood rises and falls with the tide of the visitor's mind, detached as they are from the soothing influence of a great turtle's mind. Nothing here, however, is real; 'constructs' simply fade if taken through the archways and even the greatest scientific minds or tools will reveal nothing of its source. This is an ancient magic of an ancient realm, long practised in concealing itself from any prying.
Note: Due to the fluid and highly individual nature of Dreaming, no official subheaders will be provided in the comments of this post. Feel free to post and thread however you like, so long as the rules of Dreaming are adhered to.
no subject
When Kyle settles (and there is a sense of settling) his uniform isn't the only one that changes. The gold muddies, swirls and twists and for a moment Jim's wearing blue. He raises an eyebrow, turns his hands over and studies his cuffs. It's not medical or science blue, it's-- something else. Still a uniform, but one he doesn't recognize.
He reaches up to touch the sigil on his chest. There's a ring on his hand, and it's that realization more than anything that causes the gold to creep back along the fabric to chase away the colder colour.
(Jim never has liked blue).]
What was that?
no subject
The truth.
[Give, and take.]
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Another corps?
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I didn't mention it before. The other day, using your ring? The only other thing that touches that is being out there [He points towards the bridge.] in that chair.
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You didn't have to.
[A beat.]
That chair won't fit me.
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Two different lives. I could adjust to yours. Mine'd be like going backward for you.
[Peace, hope. Exploration. Less pain. It'd be like trying to go back to Iowa, in his mind.]
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It'd be moving forward.
[And I don't deserve that.]
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His mouth is dry. It's an odd detail in a dream, he has no idea why it's registering that way, and he thinks about the look Uhura gave him when he ushered Kyle off the bridge.]
This-- we're in my head, right? Technically? This is my dream?
no subject
Yeah, looks like it.
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[He doesn't know how to do this. Use his mind this way. Maybe it's like what Spock does, in a way, which makes it easier, but he's still way out of his depth. It's like having a weight tied to your ankles before you're thrown overboard into the sound and fury of a raging ocean
(but oceans are always calm if you go deep enough.)
Jim knows he's got walls ten miles high and equally as thick. He knows that he doesn't like to open up and that he doesn't let people in. He tells people just enough so that they think they've got him all figured out, but the rest-- he keeps. In trust, for the few that are worth it.
Like Bones, and Spock and -- Kyle.
When he brings the walls down, it's with a wrecking ball. He doesn't do anything by halves. It's not in his blood.
They aren't in the cabin of the Enterprise any longer. Or, they are and they aren't. It's changed, transmuted. Something new, made so by what he's trying to convey. Kyle, as Jim sees him. My head is bloodied, but unbowed. Invictus.
But there's strength and honest goodness, a sense like coming home. Trust and loyalty and... care, too. Jim wonders if dying did this to him. If it had taught him the hard way that life's too short not to tell the people you care about that you do. Because once you're dead, that's all they'll ever have. Those words you spoke. Those memories you left behind.
I love you was the last thing George Kirk ever said, and Jim wonders how his Dad figured it out so young.]
no subject
That--
[He opens his mouth, and he wants to ask how and why and run from this, but he won't. He's (a better man than his father) not the type. Maybe that's why, even after not seeing each other for a week, they're still here, still trying to move the goddamn mountain because they're too stubborn to give up. He breathes, and then he smiles, honest and true.]
"There is no such thing as a no-win scenario."
[It's not something that fits in his world. But it can. He'll make it.]
no subject
Not on our watch.
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Blue is for hope.
[I'm not a hopeful person. You are mine.]
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You'd rock the hell out of the chair, Kyle.
[I need you to know you aren't broken.]
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What would the ship be called?
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[Jim slides his hand against Kyle's jaw, then drops it away.]
Plenty more to see. No point staying here.
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Like what? I've already seen the whole ship.
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Or we could sit here awkwardly trying to figure out who should make the first move.
[No strings. Even here, when he's the closest thing he's been to relaxed, to home since he can even remember, it's on his mind.]
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You kissed me first.
[What's stopping you now?]
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Everybody takes from you.
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[He's at a crossroads. The chasm in front of him is vast, and murky. He doesn't know where it leads or when he might hit the bottom, or just keep falling (or fly) and worry - worry is just a waste of his imagination.]
[Deep breath. Deep. He jumps.]
What if I wanted to give?
no subject
[He wonders where he gets it, sometimes. The stubbornness, the pride. How much of what a person becomes is genetics, how much is predestination? He's thought about it a lot since finding out about the future – one possible future. Do he and Spock just have the most widely compatible parameters in their respective personalities? Was that fate? Did he have a choice in that? In any of it? Was he always going to end up the captain of the Enterprise, no matter the road he took to get there? Across universes and times and realities and lives?
There's a part of him that hates that. Hates the idea of being stuck in some cycle because it's already happened or will happen or should happen. He loves his ship, and Spock and Bones are two of the most important people in his life. He cares about his crew. He'd give up anything for them. His pride, his life. Zapata always said, I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees, but the truth is, Jim would do it for the people he loved.
When he was in and out of juvie, counselors tried to talk to him about why he 'acted out' the way he did. Some of them tied it to his father dying. Some to his mother's absences that got progressively longer over the years as she found work farther and farther away. But none of them gave a damn, they just wanted to figure him out and pat themselves on the back and write a dissertation on the proclivities of child prodigies to end up as troublemakers and lock him away.
Pike was the first person who took the gloves off. Laid it out in a way that Jim understood. Not because Pike had a dozen psych degrees and a desk and a couch, but because he'd been in the trenches too. And Jim responded to that. He was just a dumb, stupid kid who thought the world owed him for all the things he'd seen and—
Predestination or not, fate or not, divine fucking providence or not, Jim wouldn't give his ship up for anything. And if that was the one thing he got right across every universe out there then so be it. Maybe some other Kirk grew up and had a perfect life and knew his parents and that's—fine. As long as it happened out there somewhere.
Jim knows he used to repel people at the same velocity he now draws them in. The Academy, the 'Fleet fixed him, enough that he could start sorting through the rest of the pieces that remained. He knows who he is now. Sometimes he even likes the guy.
Are you falling in love with me? he'd asked. He'd wanted Kyle to say no, because he likes being friends with the guy and likes the idea of having sex with him and flirting and anything more than that would ruin it. There isn't much he runs from (he's not his brother,) but that's one thing that scares him so much he doesn't even know how to articulate it. He saw what love did to his mother. She never did care about her second husband as more than someone who'd babysit her kids while she was away because she'd known love once and it wounded her.
And Jim doesn't want-- that.
(Doesn't want or didn't deserve? Fine lines in his mind.)
He exhales.]
Then I guess we see where we end up tomorrow.
[Fuck it. He leans in to kiss Kyle, and means it.]